


50 Shades of Cloak

by sarcasticfirefighter



Series: Of Mischief and Secrets [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (it’s minor and quickly resolved), ADD/ADHD Tony Stark, Attempt at Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, BAMF Stephen Strange, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, POV Cloak of Levitation, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Being Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfirefighter/pseuds/sarcasticfirefighter
Summary: Tony's helping the wizard to translate something he needs. As in more like FRIDAYactually isand Stark keeps asking him (pestering, really) about the Cloak. For science, naturally. It doesn’t go as well as he thought.But for Strange? It's the opposite.The Cloak is shown in a new light.
Relationships: Cloak of Levitation & Stephen Strange & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Of Mischief and Secrets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752400
Comments: 15
Kudos: 177





	50 Shades of Cloak

**Author's Note:**

> It's a second piece [Of Mischief and Secrets](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752400) but you don't have to read the previous one to understand anything. So far it's not really connected and has minor references. But if you want to see how I portray the Cloak, I encourage you to read it.
>
>> _Stay with me til my talk gets strange_  
>  _Stay with me til my eyes get low and heavy_  
>  _I know this and this only as myself_  
>   
>  The Fratellis – _I Am That_

The relic could sense Stark was up to something. As it wasn’t a difficult task, it read the expression on the shorter man’s face. Since coming to the Sanctum to help Strange translate some tome which proved to be extremely tricky for the Sorcerer Supreme, Stark clearly couldn’t focus on the task that he was supposed to help with, his AI instinctively taking the lead and conversed with Stephen, who donned Stark’s glasses on his face. They were slightly too big for him and made the Cloak to inwardly laugh with amusement. Its master always looked so serious and strict when surrounded by other people, yet there he was quietly talking with FRIDAY, not even minding Tony Stark who was trying to… the Cloak didn’t know. Yet.

He had been following its every movement like a hawk, just about to catch his prey. The Cloak looked at him with curiosity that one wasn’t able to recognise, observing the proverbial clogs turning in the genius’ brain that for many humans was incredibly hard to grasp. Interesting. He seemed like an enigma. The Cloak loved challenges.

When Stark finally, finally dared to ask what occupied his mind, the Cloak faltered in the air.

“Why is it red?”

Was it too much to expect better of him?

“What?”

“Your Cloak,” Tony replied, intently staring at the relic. “Why not, let’s say, blue?”

The Cloak of Levitation somehow managed to stare back. Disappointment overwhelming its core encouraged the red fabric to react in the imitation of a facepalming human. Stark threw it a surprised look, light grin on his tired face shortly appeared. The Cloak only repeated its previous action and if that was just for the show, Stark would never know.

For a genius he was such a child to the world of Mystic Arts.

Stephen abandoned his task and took off the glasses. Stark was not going to shut up anyway, so it called for a short break. He conjured two mugs, one with tea for himself and the other with coffee for Stark.

“Can you image it being blue?” Stephen asked with a mocking smirk while slowly sipping the beverage. “Although I don’t know why you're complaining. You like red.” It didn’t know either.

Tony huffed. “Not complaining per se. Duh, Cloakie and I match during the battles, what’s not to like?”

The man made a grabby hands for his drink as it wasn’t in his reach. The Cloak carefully moved it towards Stark.

“Thanks, Red,” he said. After gulping half of its content, he added, “You’re getting better, Stranger. I knew providing you with real coffee would have good result if I have to spend some time there.”

The sorcerer rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“But really, spill. Is it able to change its colour?”

“Seriously? Are you comparing one of the most powerful relics to a freaking chameleon?” Stephen raised his brow at him.

The Cloak of Levitation knew he was rather amused despite his demeanour not showing it.

“Mm, that’s a thought. Might be useful someday.” The Cloak, rightfully so, it concluded, smacked him in the back of the head. “Easy, tiger.”

It smacked him again.

“Okay, that I did deserve,” Tony muttered, rubbing his head. “Uh, your outwear is strong.”

“Your point being?”

“It’d be _cool_.”

“Sure it would,” Strange deadpanned. “If I were nice, I’d tell you when the Cloak plans on suffocating you for even implying it’s not a badass.”

Stephen is a star. He gets it, the relic mused.

"I wasn't! It is a total BAMF. And learnt from the best and—I mean myself, don't be so smug, Doc."

"Oh, I'm not. It's not about me. The Cloak of Levitation has spent centuries observing human behaviour. Believe me when I say that we are merely bystanders on its path. We may influence it in some way but it's a sentient being, fully capable of making its own decisions."

To prove his point, loud and clear, the Cloak abruptly flew towards Stark. It stopped inches away from his face, its presence radiating pure intimidation. For a few seconds it stayed immobile in the air, then as quickly as it appeared before the startled man, changed its form to a tie. It was elegant one, with golden accents. The Cloak—tie loosely placed itself around Stark's neck.

“Woah!” Stark jumped in his seat. “I have a heart condition, you know!” He sent the Sorcerer a pleading look, as if asking for him to intervene.

“It won’t cause you any harm,” he replied, then addressed the relic, “You obviously managed to scare him to death. Stop it. He knows to not mess with you, you weirdo.”

He was right. The billionaire painted a poor picture of being spooked and frozen. Ha, Iron Man reduced to a total mess! Preening excitably, the Cloak didn’t realise it actually tied itself on the terrified man’s neck.

“Jesus, stop it already! Stop before he gets a heart attack!” Strange barked suddenly and only then the Cloak noticed what it had done. Tony Stark sat completely frozen, his complexion pale as if he had just seen a ghost, and hands, oh god, his hands, shaking dramatically—but wrong, _so wrong_ , the crisscross of angry scars missing—while Stark desperately tried to loose the unwanted clothing. Before the relic reacted accordingly, familiar trembling hands touched its fabric, forcing it to free the miserable man.

The former neurosurgeon looked at him with remorse. “I’m sorry. It never did something like this. I’m really sorry this happened.”

Stark coughed a few times and took a shaky breath. “Y-yeah. That, clearly, uhm. I hate this,” he muttered, shivering. He was offered a soothing tea for the throat but declined. “I hate magic.”

The sorcerer sighed but didn’t voice his comment. Stark had a right to his own opinion. He turned his attention to the Cloak, which was back to its usual self and keeping distance from Stark.

“It will never happen again, got it?” he demanded of it, voice low and stern. “I may be your master as you’ve chosen me but don’t think this will be tolerated nor easily forgotten. Anthony Stark is not the enemy. And yet, you just treated him like one. I’m not allowing that.”

Moments like this were the sole reminder of how dangerous Stephen Vincent Strange could be. In mere seconds the man took great use of his aloofness and clearheadedness to his advantage, differentiating between his obligations to Mystic Arts and companionship with the relic, as the Sorcerer Supreme stepped into his appointed role.

The duo fell into a staring contest, both established a thread of communication. The dialogue proved merciless, jab for a jab, yet remained fully nonverbal to a being not open towards the existence of the Mystic Arts nor permitted by them.

Stark looked at them with wide eyes, surprise clear on him. “What the fuck. I just heard... _Is the Blanket speaking?!_ Is it _arguing with Strange_? What in the ever loving fuck? FRIDAY, tell me you got this too.”

“Yes, Boss. I detect a new voice,” the AI dutifully responded. “It’s beyond my comprehension and can’t be recorded.”

“Damn.”

The Cloak looked in Stark’s direction.

“Stark’s not supposed to hear,” it said although it sounded more as of “shark” instead Tony’s last name. The man kept opening and closing his mouth, struggling to accept the situation. Even FRIDAY’s confirmation didn’t manage to diminish his newfound distress.

Stephen Strange sent it a mischievous grin. “Oh?”

“That doing of the Infinity Stones?” The sorcerer shook his head. “But Iron Man despises magic. He wasn’t given my permission.”

“Mine was enough,” Stephen stated curtly. He didn’t like to use his authority (oh, how time had changed him), especially towards the old, yet dear relic.

The Cloak remembered the conversation with the Ancient One. So she didn’t use any power from the Dark Dimension. It was her privilege as the former bearer of the title, it concluded. She was the first sorcerer to do so.

“I’m, what, you. Wait. How is the Cloak speaking? Why did you hide it?” Tony seemed to come back from his daze and pointed accusingly at the man. “Strange, just, what the hell.”

The Sorcerer Supreme sighed. “The Cloak doesn’t really speak. It understands everything but verbal communication is possible with our consent when we want to form a link. However I can override the consent to not being heard by others,” he begrudgingly admitted. The relic knew he was ashamed of his decision.

“The spell requires its flawless mastery as it is powerful and complicated incantation. It’s temporary and doesn’t last long. I only use it on a very rare occasion. It’s physically and magically draining,” Strange explained, while unconsciously running a hand on his head, pulling away a stray lock from his forehead then rubbed it for a few seconds.

The connection always resulted in a headache and extreme fatigue. The human body wasn’t made to freely be able to communicate with magical artifacts that possessed a sense of self. Impermanent depletion of one’s energy was a fair consequence.

”Then why did you now? Don’t you dare to faint on me, Casper.”

”Stark. It was necessary, thus needed to be dealt with.” Stephen folded his arms and clenched his teeth. “Not gonna happen, it’s hardly—”

The Cloak cut him off before he could venture into further rant. It was running out of time. “Stephen wanted me to apologise, alright?”

Stark gaped at it. “What?”

“Shocking, I know. But he’s right. I didn’t mean to frighten you. You _are_ annoying but not so to deserve the assault. For that, I apologise.” There, it had done its job. “Ah, for the future reference though. I don’t plan to hurt you. You keep up with my idiotic sorcerer and that deserves a medal.”

Stephen sent it an unimpressed look. Tony snorted at that but it quickly turned into outright laughter.

“Er, apology accepted. I guess,” he said when he calmed some more. “And for what it’s worth I’m sorry too. You’re the best Cloak ever… But honestly, don’t you have a normal name? The Cloak of Levitation is a mouthful.”

“No. And it’s completely ignored by you,” it added.

“I like nicknames. Like Merlin over there.” Stark gestured towards the younger man who ignored being called out.

The Cloak glanced at Stephen. So far, he hadn’t butted into their conversation. Weird. Instead, he was watching them with apparent interest, despite the exhaustion making him drowsy. They won’t do any more translating today. A pang of guilt overwhelmed it, the Cloak sagging down in the air a bit. It wanted to provide some comfort and lessen the burden on its weary sorcerer but knew he won’t accept it with Stark still being in the Sanctum. Stephen was a private person, not feeling comfortable with wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Iron Man was still talking.

“So… Levi? You mind this one?” Apparently Tony managed to give it a new nickname. It shrugged. Levi… wasn’t bad. Better than Cloakie. That was horrible. The relic gave him an imitation of thumbs up. The time ran out.

“Yay. But seriously, are we good?” he asked. The relic slowly moved towards his open palm and grasped it lightly. Tony smiled at it.

“Glad we made up. _But!_ I do have questions! You could allow me some answers to satiate my curiosity. Right, Stranger? Considering Levi went on murder mission on me.”

“Right. Go ahead,” Strange replied. He seemed absent, lost in his own thoughts at this point but the engineer didn’t notice, entirely immersed in their unusual talk.

“Good, good,” Tony started. The next words solely aimed at Levi. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. It just got me wondering that as you are magical and capable of changing your shape and size, then maybe the shade too. Remember when DUM-E got that oily smoothie on you? And since you’re not stain-proofed it—hey, wizard, you have any magic trick to fix that? Eh, you had to be washed. But really, weren’t you brighter during your baby Cloak time? Had darker splotches of red during puberty? Ohh, an emo phase? Goth? I bet you’d rock it. Ah, do you know about 22nd May? World Goth Day? Did the adulthood—what? Why are you shaking? Strange, why is your Cape shaking? Is it having a seizure? Can it? Do something, Stra—” He narrowed his eyes at him. “Why aren’t you doing anything?!”

“You’re rambling,” Stephen simply answered. “And Levi’s laughing at you.”

The words were shortly followed by his own, rare laugh. Fond eyes creaked under a shy smile. It was a genuine one, making him look almost carefree and much younger. It had been like the weight of the spell and the responsibility for the Multiverse had vanished.

In all honesty, Levi couldn’t remember the last time Stephen was like this.

“Our link broke so the Cloak can no longer talk with you.” Then, Strange quietly added, “Your brain must be an interesting place.”

Tony didn’t hear him, already absorbed into some tome.

Oh. So the pining had begun, the Cloak of Levitation realised. Stephen was falling for this utterly ridiculous and oblivious man all over again.

Just as experiencing 14,000,605 futures weren’t enough.

All anew, small details had been slowly forming the barely resistible yearning for the engineer, undeniably proving the humanity of usually indifferent Stephen Strange. Despite the knowledge, Levi quivered, this dumbass won’t make the situation any easier. The long learned disregard for the task of following social cues would unmistakably backfire.

It was going to take a lot before the two end together.

The Cloak facepalmed one more time.

**Author's Note:**

> So… how ridiculous was that? Are Cloak’s antics even enjoyable? Seriously, am I perceiving and writing the characters on acceptable level? Let me know what do you think? I was a bit reluctant to post it so I appreciate all feedback & kudos.
> 
> What do you think about talking Levi and it gaining the nickname many people, myself included are fond of? I didn’t plan it but Tony’s reaction prompted it. I don’t really know how I feel about Cloak conversing with humans (that’s why the spell was written as very powerful & difficult) but since I headcanon it being similar to Strange (in [The Beginning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198763%22url%22)) I just… rolled with it. I thought it’s OOC but then Cloak talked (I didn’t describe its voice bc I couldn’t imagine it, okay?) and I liked BAMF!Stephen too much to delete. And no, I do not know if Cloak saw the futures. But that idea worked for me bc I’m sure Levi Knows Stuff.
> 
> Huh, just now there’s the thought of Cloak liking Stephen for his lighter personality (as DS1 has shown disaster!Stephen <3) visible while training at Kamar-Taj bc it also personifies that trait of his, shares it too. Despite that now Strange buried it, it being the result of his accident, losing TAO, Mordo, Dormammu, Titan & Time Stone, guiding towards the winning future. That making the perfect mix of depressed, traumatized and jaded sorcerer, disconnected from himself & the world. Oh. I should explore that. I’ve been craving to write some (maybe even heavy?) angst regarding him. Not POV!Cloak or this series, just another fic.
> 
> Edit November 2020: [here's the mentioned Stephen angst](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033987) I wanted to write and did some time ago. It doesn't have the exact stuff I described above but it is indeed angst.


End file.
